


Movie Night

by Velvet-Muffin (MischaBea)



Series: Mission Universe [17]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smutty Silliness, and 50 Sades of Gray Hatred, basically just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischaBea/pseuds/Velvet-Muffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Date night with Bryn and Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night

"Ah. Here we are." Loki stopped outside the door of theater six.

"No! This is the wrong one! We are not seeing this!" 

"Relax, my love. I'm giving you a gift."

"Trust me, this is not a gift I want. You know how much I hated this book. I cannot agree to this." I dug in my heels. There was no way in hell I was stepping inside that cinema. There were very few things I found more unpalatable than 50 Shades of Gray, and he knew that. I’d railed against it plenty.

"Just wait." He took me by the arm and led me inside the doors. I talked a good game, but I tended to allow him any whim. It was difficult not too. 

"What's going on?" I asked as we took seats in the rear of the room. “You’re planning something. I recognize that glint in your eye.”

“Well, to be honest, I wanted to sneak in here just to see the previews. I had heard that the preview of a movie I’ve been anticipating was to be shown before this wretched dreck.”

“‘Wretched dreck?’” I laughed. “What, did you read it?”

“I made an attempt. I needed to see where your disdain sprang from. And since the book still stands in one of the bookshelves at home-”

“Ugh. Why didn’t I burn it?”

“I do have to wonder how you managed to find yourself reading it.” He grinned in my direction.

“Peer pressure. A bunch of the ladies at work at the time were pushing it. I should have known better than to trust Jan Bernard with book recommendations.” I gave a melodramatic shudder. “But that’s neither here nor there. What are we doing? Sitting here waiting for a movie trailer?”

“Yes! The man who made Pan’s Labyrinth has a new movie coming out. You remember how much I enjoyed that film.” 

“I do. What else? I can tell there's more.”

“Well...One of the men in the movie,” he paused, looking sheepish, “I’m often compared to him.”

“Compared to him? Where? How?”

“On the internet. People say we look alike.”

“Oh my god.” I rubbed my face with my palms. “I keep telling you to stop Googling yourself. This guy looks like you?”

“He does. He’s quite handsome. Prominent zygoma, aristocratic nose. I can see why comparisons are made. Ooh! Hush, hush. It’s starting up.”

I sat silently in bafflement as the trailers began to run. He elbowed me lightly to pay attention as the proper one started. Admittedly, the movie looked interesting enough. A weird choice to play before 50 Shades of Bullshit, but, whatever.

Afterwards I stage whispered, “Now, which one was supposed to look like you?”

He reared his head back to stare me down, unsure if I was joking or not. “Is it...not obvious?” My shrug indicated that it was not. “The dark haired man. The comparison has been drawn in particular with this character. He looks very much like me!”

“I don’t know, babe. I just don’t see it.” I shook my head. “Can we get out of here now? I don’t want to taint my eyes with even one second of this film.”

“One moment. It’s time for your gift.” His look of extreme concentration was followed by a scream from the projection room and a shuddering stop of the images on the screen. “Now we should go. Quickly!”

He grabbed my arm and we rushed down the stairs and out into the busy corridor.

By then I was giggling madly. “What did you do?”

“I’m just saving a theater full of people from being assaulted in a similar manner to the way the female protagonist is victimized by the central male character throughout the book. I melted the apparatus.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” I continued to laugh.

“I might be evil, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”

“You are not evil.”

“Are you certain? I’ve done some positively dastardly things to you…”

“All of which I have asked for-”

“That’s correct. Because even I, an antihero at best, knows that consent is implicit to an even marginally healthy relationship.”

I grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled his face close to mine. “I think our relationship might be somewhat healthier than marginal.”

“Yes?” His lips brushed softly against mine.

“Yes,” I returned before deepening the kiss, drawing his tongue into my mouth.

He pulled back. “This is a bit public, even for you.” Looking around, he tugged me to an alcove that hid a broom closet. We ducked inside and my back was pressed heavily against the door as it closed. He ran his hand up my bare thigh. “Mmm. Easy access. This is very good indeed.”

“Well, that is why I always wear a skirt on date night. You just never know.” As I leaned in to kiss him again, his huge hand wound into my hair, cupping the back of my head, and yanking it firmly so I was looking directly into his eyes. 

I gasped at the prickling pull at my scalp that was just shy of pain. With the wandering fingers of his other hand finding their way just under my painties, lightly brushing my sensitive flesh, the result was nearly orgasmic already.

He smirked down at me. “You like that, I see.”

“You know that I do.” Try as I might to keep my voice even, it faltered.

He yanked my hair again before covering my mouth with his in a welcome invasion. Too quickly he pulled away to whisper into my ear, "What I'd really like to do is conjure my riding crop and whip your clit until you're begging me to allow you to come." A low moan escaped my lips at the mere thought of the sensation that crop would bring. "But I fear that you'd be unable to stay quiet enough, and it would bring the law keepers down upon us. So," he stepped back, "this will have to do." He spun me quickly around and my hands landed heavy on the wooden door. His lips travelled down the side of my neck, shushing me as if I'd had any control over the noise my body banging against the door made. His hands moved to my waist and over my ass, reaching down to flip the skirt up, his long adept fingers slipping inside my panties, pulling them down and off. My backside bared to him, he took the opportunity to lay a fast and hard smack to the right side. I cried out at the sting of pain that always came with the first slap before biting down on my lips to keep myself quiet. It throbbed but it was worth bearing for the pure pleasure that the subsequent smacks would bring. He wasted no time doling out that second, third, and fourth. By the time his huge hand moved to the left side of my ass to start the process over, I was positively dripping and ready. But he'd make me wait for his cock until he was done. That was part of the game. He repeated the cadence. Pain, pleasure, Pleasure, PLEASURE. Only then did he give in to his own urges and free himself from the confines of his clothing, pushing into me without further prelude. His hands clasped my hips as he plunged in, over and over. My orgasm came long and loud. His hand snaked up from my hip to cover my mouth and I bit down on the fleshy part to keep from crying out again. He buried his face into my neck as his own orgasm overcame him.

After a few moments he asked, "Do you still want to try and see the film?"

I sighed, breathlessly. "No, baby. Just take me home. There's a riding crop waiting there with my name on it."

"That was what I'd hoped you would say." He unceremoniously threw me over his shoulder and walked us out of the theater as I laughed raucously at the spectacle he clearly did not care he was making.


End file.
